


Five Times Cobb Got It Wrong . . . And One Time He Got It Right

by beetle



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M, Post-Inception
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-01
Updated: 2013-05-01
Packaged: 2017-12-10 02:27:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/780709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beetle/pseuds/beetle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this inception_kink prompt, "Five stupid things Cobb has bought Arthur in attempts to apologize. Cobb is terrible with apologies."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Cobb Got It Wrong . . . And One Time He Got It Right

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I just play in Nolan’s yard

1

  
  
The risotto's overdone, the roast beef's underdone, and the asparagus . . . well, the less said about that, the better.  
  
Through no small amount of finessing, the children are both at sleepovers. It’s to be just Cobb, Arthur, and a romantic,  _I'm-sorry-baby_  evening in.  
  
That is, till Arthur comes home early and sees the mess . . . Cobb standing almost helplessly in the middle of it with a scorched saucepan and sucking on his blistered thumb.  
  
“Omm-ee, abey?” Cobb mumbles.  _Sorry, baby_?  
  
Surveying the mess and his lover with stony, dark eyes, Arthur huffs. “Whatever. I’ll pick up some Thai,” he says coolly.  
  


2

  
  
When Arthur walks into their bedroom, he immediately freezes, his attaché case dropping to the floor.  
  
Cobb, laying in their bed naked and hard, raises his eyebrows, as if to say  _you like?_  
  
Arthur’s mouth opens then shuts. His brows draw together—he looks absolutely horrified—then he turns and walks out, muttering and shaking his head.  
  
Sighing behind the ball-gag, Cobb gingerly removes it, the alligator nipple clamps, the leather cock-ring, and the fur-lined restraints.  
  
The huge, vibrating butt-plug he leaves in till, shaking, he comes.   
  
He has a feeling that’s the closest he’ll get to actual sex for a while.  
  


3

  
  
It’s the kids who sabotage the third apology.  
  
“Uncle Arthur! Uncle Arthur!” Pippa squeals as soon as Arthur gets home. “Look what Daddy got you!”  
  
James scampers into the hall with Arthur’s gift. The golden retriever pup in his arms mewls adorably.  
  
“Can we name him Waffles?” Pippa bounces in place.  
  
Cobb holds his breath.  
  
Arthur’s eyes tick between the puppy and Cobb, and for a moment, they almost seem softer, fonder. . . .  
  
“Name him whatever you like, sweetheart,” Arthur says kindly, sidling past the kids with a tight smile, and not looking at Cobb, who lets out a disappointed breath.  
  


4

  
  
“A rocket-launcher? Really, Dom?”  
  
Cobb shoves his hands in his pocket and looks everywhere but at Arthur’s disbelieving face. Shuffles his left foot and lets out a breath.  
  
“It was on sale,” he says, running a finger down one side of the shoulder-cannon, tracing faded, Cyrillic characters. “I saw it and I thought of you.”  
  
Arthur snorts, and walks away. “Yeah. Whatever. Nice try.”  
  
A few seconds later, their bedroom door shuts quietly.  
  
Arthur doesn’t slam doors.  
  
Feeling lost and vaguely stupid, Cobb glumly re-boxes the rocket-launcher, thinking that it might be better for them both if Arthur did.  
  


5

  
  
“There’s a red Maserati parked in our driveway,” Arthur says when he steps into the house. He absently hugs an excited Pippa and James, then shoos them off to finish their homework.  
  
Cobb rocks back and forth, heel and toe. “Yeah, about that—“  
  
“No. There’s no  _about that_ , Dominic, there’s only the red  _motherfucking Maserati_  parked in our  _driveway_!” Arthur hisses, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “This shit has to stop _yesterday_!”  
  
“For what it’s worth, I’m still sorry,” Cobb mumbles, but Arthur’s already walking back out the door. He slams it thunderously behind him, but Cobb doesn’t feel any better.  
  


6

  
  
“ _Baby. Honey-bunch. I’m so sorry_  . . . no, too florid.”  
  
Cobb’s been practicing apologies for literally weeks, now.  
  
“ _I love you, and I’m sorry, sweetheart? Please forgive me?_ ”  
  
“ _Finally_ ,” a voice says from behind Cobb, startling him. Familiar arms immediately slide around his waist. A warm, lingering kiss is pressed to his nape. “All I wanted was a sincere apology, you know?”  
  
Cobb sighs. “So . . . you really didn’t like  _any_  of the presents?”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“Not even Waffles?”  
  
Beat.  
  
“Well,” Arthur huffs. “The kids love him.”   
  
“Ah. I see.” Cobb settles back into Arthur’s embrace. And reminds himself to call and cancel the jet.


End file.
